KEMAL, Yaşar

Story of an Island

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From all four corners of the battlefield came the sounds of combat together with the intensity of the desert storm, and with the storm came hurricanes. From the mountain heights herds of deer slipped down toward the desert like a wide-branching, swift red flood. When they reached the edge of the desert, startled by the noise, the deer panicked into a disorganized mass, bunching one on top of the other, before sorting themselves out, and streaming forward once again. Arriving at the trenches where the soldiers engaged in ruthless combat, they scattered once more and, though once past the trenches they collected themselves, they were then plunged into the middle of the battle. Bullets and cannonballs rained down on every side and, not knowing where to go, in mortal terror, the deer increased their speed, leaping into the air, legs bent, like crescents, coming to earth only to spring up again immediately like a drawn bow. Those the bullets truck lay there unmoving on the sand like dead infants, their black eyes wide and mournful.

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